Chapter Seventeen
Siblings
Dasher was rather proud to be one of the few fifth years invited into the Potion Creations class on Fridays. Except for a pair of sixth year hopefuls wanting to go into healer school, most of the class were in seventh year. The only students he knew there were Maurice, Cain and Paula; Cain from his association with Maurice, and Paula from the Owls. Professor Craw was also sitting in one of the student seats, and she was the only one besides himself who didn't seem confused over the level of Alchemist Notation they were using. Even so, every student knew enough notation to copy down the bases properly, but deciphering them was another story. Many of the students looked quite glum when they realized just how much time they would have to spend out of class looking up all of the different variables listed.
"Just like this balm base that we learned last week..." Disparte explained, circling the beginning sections of the five formulas he had written in the air, "Most basic potions start with one of five bases; utilizing whatever ingredients that have these properties and can satisfy this part of the equation. With a balm, this number here can be anything from lavender oil to pressed toad secretion... that is the flexibility that the formula gives to potion making. As a beginner, you are to follow one of these five formulas to the letter without exception. Attempting to concoct anything outside of these five beginning formulas is best left to experts and professionals. Has everyone gotten those formulas copied down yet?"
Dasher heard movement as Craw, who had her notation written down a great while ago, got up to refill her coffee. Everyone else was making scratching noises with their quills.
"Once you are done with that, we are going to be breaking into sections," Disparte continued. "Everyone with a passing mark on the balm base will come up to the front section, while those of you who need to repeat your balm base shall sit in the back row. You will stay on each base until you've mastered it; only then can you move on to the next. I would also like for you to pair up for this next lesson. Therefore, you will be assigned a partner based on your skill level. However, if there happen to be any personality conflicts between you and your partner that I am not aware of, feel free to let me know and I will re-pair you. Professor Craw, perhaps you should join Mr. Boulderdash up front," Disparte suggested. Then he went over to look at Maurice's notation and then nodded in approval.
"Maurice, since this is your first time joining our class but have adequate formula knowledge, let's pair you with Paula until I have a better feel of your execution level. Paula only missed one ingredient in the balm. I'm sure you'll have no trouble passing this time," he assured her when she grimaced. "Now let's see, who's next?"
Craw brought her coffee over and sat by Dasher with a smile.
"I am so glad he paired me with you," Dasher murmured quietly, earning an amused grin from Craw.
"Me too, to be perfectly honest," Craw whispered back. "My brother is apt to be disappointed, but he is starting late."
"Why did he even join? He doesn't need it, does he?" Dasher asked.
"He's one of my new lab assistants, so I believe he took it so he has a better understanding of what's going on if any of these students need time in the lab," Craw said. "Speaking of which, I know that Quidditch season is coming up, but I don't suppose you could help with the mid-week evening lab?"
"Sure," Dasher said toothily.
"All right, everyone get settled and fetch your cauldrons and ingredients," Disparte called out. Professor Craw quickly finished her coffee while Dasher got out their supplies and they started on the next formula.
In Hogsmeade, Sprinter finished bottling and labeling the Pepperup Potions and brought them up to refill the shelf.
"Is it just about break time, Mr. Willowby?" Sprinter asked.
"Past time, I'd say," Corey said. "Though it's not like you to point that out."
"I'd like to start on something new," Sprinter explained, going to the back. The shop was busy, so Corey had little time at that moment to question him about what he was starting on. In fact, it was nearly the end of Sprinter's break before Corey was finally able to break away and go to the back to check on him. He was happily stirring a viscous liquid that smelled rather floral.
"Well, what is this?" Corey asked.
"It's a base formula for an imbibing potion," Sprinter explained. "This one has lavender and heartsease components... I'm copying it off of one Professor Craw is making."
"I'm sorry?" Corey replied, confused and wondering if he misheard.
"Professor Craw is Dasher's partner in his potion creation class," Sprinter explained.
"What!" Corey said, alarmed.
"There's no reason to panic, it's not volatile. I checked the math myself. Here it is," Sprinter explained and Corey went over and stared at it with a dropped jaw. "I think from the ingredients that she's probably making a sleeping potion, although I can't fathom what the lavender and heartsease is for, since typically the sleeping potion would help someone relax all by itself. What do you think?"
"What I think is that you're not ready to be experimenting with Potion Creation of any kind without direct supervision," Corey scolded him. "No matter how harmless you think the formula is."
"Sorry, sir. I'll wait until you have time to work with me next time. I didn't really think about it since my brother and Professor Craw were being supervised," he explained. Corey looked over his work and the formula.
"This isn't going to be done before your break, you know. That's an hour class and you've only put half an hour into this."
"Well, if I can't suspend it, It'll just have to sour, I suppose. With the business we've been doing, I haven't had much time to practice at all lately," Sprinter said. Corey frowned at that, knowing it was true. "That's why Dasher took the class, actually, so that I could learn about potion creation and work at the same time," he explained.
"Even as busy as we've been? You know everything he's been learning about?" Corey asked, impressed.
"Sure, that's easy. Although it hasn't been as easy for Dasher to learn from me since we've been busy, because I've been doing everything too fast, you see," Sprinter said. "But that's all right; it's not like he wants to be an alchemist any more than I'd want to be a wizard full time."
"But you know all the spells he's learned," Corey realized.
"Sure," Sprinter said with a shrug. "But I'll never be able to cast as well as he does since he actually practices casting those spells every day, and he'll never have the same level of timing or precision I have with potions... oh, but he does want me to point out to you that he's better than anyone else in class except for Professor Craw," he said. "Really, it isn't as if I was slighting him, I was stating a fact. He's so much more emotional and I am! More like mother."
"Now, don't you two start mental fighting. I have no way of stopping it other than trying to keep you busy," Corey protested with a chuckle.
"I suppose I ought to get back to work anyhow," Sprinter said, frowning at the potion.
"No, keep at it," Corey decided. "I'll be back to supervise as soon as I explain to Jack why he'll need to take lunch a half an hour late."
"Thank you," Sprinter said sincerely.
Corey wandered back to the front, a bit lost in the wonder of how the twins kept things straight between them and still had such a strong sense of who they were. And yet they did, Corey was certain; perhaps it was something that they had naturally adapted themselves to... or something their parents had taught him to do. After all, their fathers definitely must have had the same sort of difficulties and probably had given them plenty of guidance on the topic. And all of them got along so awfully well; not at all like Grendelbane and Beowulf, who had hated each other from the start, to the point that Grendelbane had, he had told Corey, "cut him off" a long time ago. How was that done? And what was that like, being cut off from a twin like that?
The Canadian Flyers were out doing drop-pattern flying drills in the thick, forest cover when Harry finally tracked them down, landing in a remote clearing that he had seen an unusual amount of magical activity in. He waited patiently in the snow, enjoying the relative peace and quiet and the smell of brisk clean air. Hedwig probably loved it here, Harry thought, very sure that she would enjoy flying in cooler weather. He watched his breath puff out in front of him and feeling anticipation for the winter months ahead.
Just then he heard rowdy laughter ring through the air, which then silenced abruptly. They had seen him, Harry thought with a soft chuckle, taking out a wand and making an 'all clear' sign in the snow.
"Wot? Hullo, you're no Flyer, but you know our signs!" Harry heard a voice call out.
"It's just me," Harry said clearly.
"Oh, it's Potter! Come on out, boys!" the voice said, and a large group of flyers came out of the skies.
At first they looked like a flock of geese flying down, but by the time they had reached the snow, they were a broom squadron of Flyers, accompanied by his daughter Jamie and Mike Coventry.
"How were we? Did you know it was us?" Jamie said excitedly. "How did I look?"
"Like a silly goose," Harry told her with a grin. "Of course I knew it was you, since HQ told me where your squadron was practicing at. Nice to see you both mastered that illusion spell, though."
"It took them forever to learn it," Flyer Wright said. "I think it was their accent that threw it off."
"Look who's talking about an accent," Mike said.
"All a matter of perspective, b'y," Wright said with a wink. "To me I speak as clear as a bell."
"Yeah, just whatever you do, don't ask him about hockey," Jamie warned her father. "Even if you understand the game, it's a lost cause. You'll never understand the commentary."
"I see you're both getting on well here," Harry chuckled. "But I'm afraid I'm here to call you back. You can have a few days to finish up what you're doing, but I could use your help with patrols, Jamie, and Mike, I need you to help me break in a new recruit."
"Already? But we were just getting them up to speed! Literally!" Wright protested. "At least stay the evening for a drink or three."
"Or ten. He'll drink you under the table, and I won't even talk about how he eats," Mike said.
"I can stay one evening," Harry grinned. "I had a feeling you'd insist. And Mike, I spent some time here as a new recruit myself, so I know how these events go. Moody sent me here to train for a few months too."
"Then you know you'll have to buy the first round," Wright said wickedly. "For inconveniencing us taking these two from us on such short notice. Mount up, we're headin' back to the Rock office then out for drinks, the Brits are buyin'," he added for good measure, the others cheering and chatting with each other, being so loud at times that Harry didn't wonder if some of the people down below had heard anything when they flew past on their way back.
Harry had trouble trying to pull himself together the next day, both from the time lost and the alcohol. As slow as he had been drinking compared to everyone else, they still managed to get a few beers into him; Harry had never been much of a drinker. Still... the sensation of waking up was almost nostalgic as he recalled some of Alastor's parties when he was just starting out, and despite the headache, the memory wasn't altogether unpleasant.
By the time he trudged into the office for his routine Sunday check-in, Severus was already there. Harry blinked at the state of the room. The desk that had been in the center of the room had been pushed against a wall leaving the floor clear, and the map that had been kept on the desk was now on the wall next to the flag board and enlarged so that Severus could easily look between them when needed. Severus was staring with his arms folded in front of the flag map, fixated on it with an intensity that threw Harry back in the past once more; the only person he had ever seen stare at the flag board like that was Alastor Moody.
"Hi," Harry finally said, walking a few steps into the room. Severus turned his had and gave him the same critical look he had been giving the board.
"What happened to you?" Severus asked bluntly.
"I went to Canada yesterday to recall Mike and Jamie," Harry explained.
"I thought I gave you a Sobershield potion for that," Severus frowned.
"You did, but you only gave me one so I slipped it in Jamie's drink," Harry admitted.
"Fair enough, I would have done the same thing," Severus agreed, shrugging it off and handing him a potion from his cloak.
"Thanks," Harry said, gratefully taking it. "Where's Laura?"
"I sent her for coffee when she complained about where I put the desk. What is it there for, anyway?" Severus asked. Harry blinked.
"What is it there for?" Harry repeated. "It's just a standard reception desk. It's always been in here for those watching the flag board."
"To do what? To help put them to sleep?" Severus challenged him. "There's no paperwork in any of the drawers; just a spare wand and a couple of snoop gadgets that all of your Aurors should already have on them. Even the appointment book seemed pointless, since it's often not kept up to date. Even when it was, half of the appointments are marked canceled for one reason or another."
"Damn, you're right. The desk has always been there so I never thought to question it," Harry admitted, looking around. "Aurelius and I have folders in our offices that we use for appointments and reports, we don't use that one anymore, and the shift schedule is in my office."
Laura came in holding two cups in hand, hesitating when she saw who was in the room.
"Oh, hi, you're back," Laura said.
"Laura, what do you think about moving the desk out of here?" Harry suggested.
"Then where would I put the coffee?" she asked.
"That corner table by the entryway would do, but personally, I always have a taffy on me,"Severus replied, pointedly dropping one out of the pocket and instantly transfiguring it into a table.
"The desk is there to give a good first impression to people coming into the office," Laura said.
"Such as seeing Aurors who are dozing off or painting their nails when they're supposed to be paying attention to the board?" Severus inquired.
"Who paints their nails?" Harry asked flatly.
"Jamie," Severus said. Harry squinted at that. "Having an empty floor has its benefits; one can do forms when nothing is going on, and one is less likely to lose focus when you're standing up. You can always get one of those Stack'o'stools if you must have some seating in here. But this department has one of the smallest office spaces, considering its importance. More floor space in here would make for a better impression, as would an Auror paying attention to the board instead of being bored. Speaking of which, can I ask you something about the flags, Harry?"
"Sure," Harry said, completely ignoring the fact that Laura was standing there fuming. She sat down at the corner table with her drink.
"How possible would it be to add other indicators to these flags other than color?" Severus asked.
"What did you have in mind?" Harry replied.
"You say you've had trouble with getting anyone who was missing back on the board, but what about their acquaintances that are on the board?" Severus said, pointing to a flag. "For example, I've been watching Amadeus Longbottom since I came here; so far he hasn't left the mansion except for a brief check-in at the publishing office. However, it would seem to me that if we put an extra marker on those that we know for certain have a long association with the wizards who are missing, sooner or later, they may give a clue to where they are. For example, Gamban, Platt, and Longbottom should be marked for certain, along with several others on here. Pity that Balmweed and Tubbins aren't on here."
"Well, flags are formed from court orders, so I don't think there's a way to add them," Harry explained.
"But protection orders count, as do restraining orders," Severus said.
"Yes, obviously, that's why you and your whole family are on here," Harry said, looking at the board thoughtfully. "I think you're right, though, in that it'd be easier if there was a way where we could watch their movements as a whole. Let me get some flash ribbons... we normally only use those on someone who we're specifically watching because we think they're a high risk for breaking their parole. However, we don't use them often and we can charm them to do what you want them to do," Harry said, then noticed that Laura was still brooding in the corner. "Laura, do you mind taking that desk down to supply? Then you can help us mark these flags... I'm sure there will be a few to change."
"Fine," Laura said with a sigh, minimizing the desk and chair as Harry and Severus went into the office.
Glaring at the taffy table, she grabbed the furniture and turned it in, signing off on it and listening to the complaints of its condition without really paying attention to them. What was the Headmaster even doing there? No one else even seemed to be questioning it anymore; Aurelius didn't question it at all. He must know something she didn't, but she knew trying to ask him wouldn't go well.
The supply office was on the other side of the Ministry, and she hadn't been any hurry to get back. She needed to look at this situation with an open mind, she thought. Was he simply here to help out with the Coventry case? If so, why did he decide to join the department when he had already obtained a special investigations permit from the LE Department? Then again, the Headmaster was well known for attempting to over-prepare for anything; perhaps he was simply trying to cover for all circumstances as he was known to do. That didn't explain why he decided to take a flag board shift and disrupt the entire department... and it was just like Harry to let him do it. For some reason, he had always bent any time Severus had asked him for anything; Harry was nothing if not loyal to his friends.
As she stepped back into the department, Laura decided that she probably shouldn't have dawdled; for the room was dramatically different than when she had left. The table that had been in the corner was gone now. Several more maps and a written key of which flag was which on the left wall; making it look like the wall of a war room. Two of the other walls were covered with large mirrors, much like the ones Laura remembered from the Hogwarts gymnasium. Between the two offices hung a framed sketch of Harry that Laura had never seen before; while over the mantle of the small fireplace were four smaller landscape paintings; one of Hogsmeade, one of Hogwarts castle, one of Diagon Alley, and one of Azkaban. Their coffee mugs, it seemed, were currently on the mantle.
Even the floor had changed; the ugly circular rug that had been there was gone, and the wooden floorboards were polished to handle better foot traffic.
"There you are, Laura. You didn't happen to pass Alex in the hall at all, did you?" Harry asked. Laura shook her head.
"Right behind you," Alex said. Laura stepped aside to see Alex carrying a large wooden shelving unit. "Here's your wall recess, Harry."
"Thanks, Alex," Harry said and took the shelving unit. Going over to the only empty spot available, Harry held it up while Severus cast the spell to sink it flush against the wall. "There we are. We can store some miniaturized tables and chairs on the top two shelves and leave the bottom for cups and the like. All we need now is one of those post boxes like you have, Alex."
"Well, those are a bit more complicated, but I'll see if I can arrange it," Alex said, then inspected the room. "This looks great! I love all of the new security! Not to mention the open floor, I never realized it had that much space with that eyesore desk in here. You could probably even practice blocks and forms with this much space," she added.
"Yes, that's the main reason I moved the desk in the first place," Severus admitted. "I never did have time to do any, however, the flag surveillance alone has been keeping me busy."
"We're tagging all of the Equinox supporters to try and get some clues to their missing comrades," Harry explained, putting the bag of ribbons on the shelf and pulling one out.
"Great idea!" Alex said with enthusiasm.
"Harry, do you mind if I take a break?" Laura asked. "Just to the cafeteria."
"Sure, Laura, we have things well in hand here," Harry said.
"Yes, so I see," Laura said evenly, walking out of the room. The three of them looked after her thoughtfully.
"You know, for a Lupin, she has moments when she reminds me of a Snape," Alex decided. "Anyway, I'll make a note of that post box then I'm heading back home for the day. These 'check-ins' on weekends have kept getting longer lately."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Harry said, waving as she left. "So how has Laura been doing at the school on Saturdays?"
"Unengaged, I believe that's how Aurelius put it," Severus said. "At least here there is evidence of personal investment; she wouldn't get so irritated about us making changes if there wasn't."
"In that case, it is a good thing she is still here, then, isn't it?" Harry said. Severus didn't answer at first; he had already tried unsuccessfully to convince Harry to let Laura go already. Severus shrugged noncommittally.
"Perhaps, for now," Severus said diplomatically. "But the longer you try to keep her here, the more likely that her Auror career will come to a bad end."
"If you're worried about it, we could switch partners," Harry sighed.
"No, I think we should go with our original plan for my partner. Besides, as a Truth-seeker, Aurelius has a better chance of sensing if things are about to go sour," Severus decided, putting another modified flag on the board.
It had been nice to get out of the country for a while.
Mike Coventry felt ready to tackle his situation now... or at least, that's what he was telling himself as he gently packed the Chimes of Aepheri in his last bag and slung it over his shoulder. It was always the last thing he packed when he moved anywhere. It was always the first thing that came out at his new location.
This move was particularly awkward; for some reason, he felt more like a refugee than a house guest as he Apparated in front of the Craw Mansion and stared up at it. It wasn't as large as Coventry Manor yet somehow it was much more imposing, despite the fact that it had to be reconstructed from the ground up. The history of the location itself and the dark wizards that once resided there still resonated, somehow; not in a negative way, Mike mused. It went deeper than that... it was as if the Mansion itself was saying: This is where we came from. This is who we are now. Cold and accepting, unashamed and unapologetic... the Craws were, if nothing else, a family of extremes. The irony was just how comfortable they were with that fact. He envied them, Mike realized. Despite some run-ins with their own history, like the year they found the ring, they had never lost the sense of who their family was. Mike wished he was that lucky. He had no idea what it meant to be a Coventry any longer. Maybe he had never known.
The front door popped open and Elizabeth came out, running up to meet him as if she was a little girl again and hugging him like he was coming home from summer camp. He was a tad embarrassed by the whole thing, especially when he realized someone else was standing in the doorway. It was Ambrose, and he was smiling at Mike warmly. Somehow that didn't make it any better.
"I'm so glad you decided to move in! We already moved everything from your old flat into your suite, so I hope you feel at home," Beth said, pulling him by the arm when he didn't move right away.
"Are you sure this is better than staying at the manor?" Mike asked skeptically.
"Yes, much. It feels like a tomb over there now. Besides that, the security here is much, much better, which is one of the reasons that Minister Craw suggested you move here with us," Beth explained.
"Beth, Don isn't going to hurt us," Mike said firmly. Beth frowned at that.
"Did I ever say he would?" Beth challenged him.
"No, but I bet that's what Craw was thinking when he invited me here," Mike snapped.
"Yes, well... maybe," Beth admitted. "But he also did it because he considers me like family now, and since you're my brother that extends to you."
"I bet it doesn't extend to Don, though, does it?" Mike challenged her.
"Well, no," Beth admitted. "If anything, Craw thinks our father should have disowned him a lot sooner than he did. Perhaps after that incident with Lena."
"That wasn't an incident. He Potioned her," Mike corrected. "And he's right; Don should have been disowned then."
"Well, since you're in agreement, perhaps you'll forgive his caution," Beth said smoothly. "Craws and Snapes love to over-plan things."
"True," Mike agreed with a sigh. Beth looked quizzically at the troubled expression on his face, but Mike didn't seem to be in any rush to let her in on what was on his mind.
"Welcome, Mike," Ambrose greeted.
"Hi, Ambrose. What are you doing here?" Mike asked.
"Oh, I've been helping with some of the plans for the museum," Ambrose explained. "See? There are benefits to being a history major after all."
"Not many," Mike replied curtly.
"Maurice asked him to look after me after Father died. That's the real reason he's here," Beth explained.
"Well, now that I'm moving in, he doesn't need to stay here anymore," Mike suggested, Beth cringing at that.
"That's great!" Ambrose said, apparently offended. "Mike's right, Beth. All of this stuff you've been having to deal with sorting out your father's estate is something that your brother should be helping with."
"Fine, but I still need your help with the museum, Ambrose, especially since Mike doesn't approve of it," Beth said.
"That's true, I don't approve," Mike said, then shrugged. "But as long as you are meeting on site or at the Coventry office, it's okay with me." Beth gave her brother a hard stare.
"No problem," Ambrose said amiably. "I know you both have some catching up to do, so I'll go pack and get out of here. Send me an Owl when you want to work on the museum again, Beth."
"But..."
"Welcome back, Mike," Ambrose said again with a warm smile before walking up the stairs and out of sight.
"Just what was all of that about?" Beth snapped at her brother, who seemed completely unfazed.
"Just reminding him of his place... and its not here. Your rooms aren't next to his, are they?"
"Of course not. His room was near Maurice's. Mine is in the other wing... yours are near mine, actually..."
"Good," Mike said. Beth rolled her eyes at that. "Which way?"
"You are so old fashioned!" Beth complained.
"Am I?" Mike said, pausing at the top of the stair so that Beth could show him which way to go.
"Ambrose is just a friend, Mike. In fact, he's been a really good friend to me since Father died," Beth defended. She glanced at her brother, who was still quite expressionless as they walked down the hall. "You're not worried about those rumors in the Oracle, are you?"
"Yes I am, and you should be too," Mike said bluntly.
"But there's nothing to them..."
"That is not the point, Beth. It isn't whether or not they are true that matters, it is the perception. As the head of the company, perception is everything, so you must be in control of how people perceive both you and the company. Reality has nothing to do with it," Mike explained. "By allowing Ambrose to aid in your recovery, you gave them the opportunity to conjure up a negative image... and rightly so, I'd say. If I didn't know you, I'd have come to the same conclusion myself. An heiress of one of the richest wizards in Britain shouldn't be intimately associated with a bastard of bastard with no holding and no known family lineage." Beth gasped.
"Mike! You know perfectly well Ambrose is more than acceptable company! Don't you know who Ambrose really is?"
"Would you like to tell the press who his father really is, or shall I?" Mike inquired.
"You know perfectly well we can't do that," Beth said, turning as white as a sheet at the mere thought.
"Then stop mucking about with it, will you? Your association with Ambrose should be nothing more than a casual acquaintance whether he is friends with Maurice or not. Is this it?"
Mike stepped in the sitting while Beth waited at the door with folded arms and an irritated look on her face. It was a bit smaller than his suite at home and Victorian in style; still it was clean and had built in shelves and closet space. His furniture from his old flat was already set up in the room, and the rest of his items were in folded boxes under a tall window. The window looked out towards the forest, but when he opened it, it was the smell and sound of the ocean that he noticed the most.
"Do you need any help?" Beth asked.
"Not really, but I wouldn't mind catching up for a few minutes if you want to hang around while I'm unpacking," Mike suggested, getting out the Chimes and stepping into the bedroom to put it away.
Beth inspected the small table and chair set in the corner and then stepped out long enough to get a tablecloth from the linen closet. Then she returned and rummaged in the boxes for his tea set.
"I don't suppose there's been word on Don yet?" Mike asked.
"No, none that I know of," Beth said. "You'll probably find out before I do, anyway, being an Auror and all."
"I haven't checked in yet. I wanted to get settled first, but I will go as soon as we're done here," Mike said. He stepped back into the sitting room and got out his wand to move the box full of books, deftly levitating them onto the top bookshelves in order by subject.
"You think he's alive, don't you?" Beth asked.
"Yes, I'm sure he is," Mike agreed. Beth studied him with a thoughtful frown. "I may not be telepathic like those goblin twins are, but we're still connected. If he was dead, I'd know it." Beth nodded at that.
"But what does that mean? For us, and for everyone else?" Beth asked softly.
"I don't know," Mike admitted. After an uncomfortable pause, the two of them decided to talk about how the company was doing instead. Anything was preferable to talking about family at that moment.